


a rose by any other name would smell as sweet

by nemesis (naanobytes)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Description-Heavy, F/M, Flower Language, Flowers, Fluff, Little Dialogue, Reunion, can’t think of any other tags haha, exploring leonie’s character a bit, kinda romantic i suppose? it is sylvain, no beta we die like Glenn, teatime babey!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22406446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naanobytes/pseuds/nemesis
Summary: Leoniehatedhim. Always walking with that swagger in his step like he owned the place, winking at Leonie’s housemates and at every other passing girl, clasping their small hands in his own and inviting them out for tea with him in a velvety voice. Sylvain had flirted with almosteveryoneat least once. Boys and girls alike, though the former generally more uncommon than the latter.Almost everyone, and certainly everygirl, except forher.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 21
Kudos: 26





	a rose by any other name would smell as sweet

**Author's Note:**

> hi! so i was in the shower, just vibin’ (as one does) when this ship entered my mind? there’s absolutely no content for them on ao3- they’re not even a ship tag! i think that’s a crime, and so, i wanted to write them immediately- and so i did. part of it is just my exploration of leonie’s character, but eventually the ship does come in, so, please take this little fic, and i hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (p.s. see the end notes for some of my thoughts on sylvonie!)

Leonie knew that she wasn’t the prettiest. Of _course_ she did. Surrounded by nobles who only cared about appearances rather than true strength, reminders of that were constantly thrust into her face. 

She hailed from a small hunting village, tucked snugly into the corner of Leicester Alliance territory. Deep in the forest and a day’s trek away from any nearby city, there had never been much in the way of supply-bearing merchants coming to visit their town- and even if there were, it wasn’t like the population had the coin to buy anything. 

No, in the fertile soils of the forests they sowed their own seeds and cultivated them to maturity. The cover of the trees and the sprawling foliage provided many areas for edible plants to grow, and a knowledge of wild foods was common among the people of her village. It also aided in the hunting of the plentiful animal population- the main source of the village’s food. Leonie had learned to nock an arrow and pierce a young doe’s heart before she had even learned to read.

The people there had become hardy and self-sufficient, and from a young age, Leonie had had those same qualities pounded into her bone marrow. Her first encounter with the outside world- a culture where there were lanterns rather than torches, where people cooked complex meals over stoves rather than on open flames, where there were people who never worked a day in their lives and yet thrived happily and comfortably because of their surnames- was Captain Jeralt’s arrival. 

It had been a complete accident, too. A coincidence that Leonie had strayed too far from her home in pursuit of her quarry, and had stumbled upon a man riding a horse along the border of the woods. A single split-second decision to speak up and ask the stranger a question, to offer to bring him back to the village in the woods, his acceptance, her remembrance of the way back. Almost anything could have happened that she would not have had that fateful encounter, and nothing would have changed for her. She would still be stuck in her home, deep within the woods, far out of sight. Still without the knowledge that there was more to life than killing animals and milling grain for bread, and people who didn’t have to do such things. A world much larger than any she would’ve dared to dream if she could have. A world of money, and nobility, and _possessions_. 

Money, nobility, and possessions were things Leonie had never had. So far out of reach from the remainder of Fódlan, little had concerned her or her people other than protecting herself and those that she cared about. Not her personality, not her appearance- only her skill and strength and resolve mattered. By the time she’d finally emerged from the shell that was her home and entered the real world, there was no changing her stance on that. 

She cut her hair short whenever it began to grow with a sharp knife given to her by Captain Jeralt, intent on getting it out of the way so that she could focus on what was important. She didn’t bother to slather a million products on her skin to make it soft and supple. She didn’t care to direct all that extra time and energy to something so superficial. As long as she wasn’t dirty, she was absolutely fine. 

It was just.. looking in the mirror, sometimes, staring at her choppy short hair and the callouses kissing her hands, a sharp feeling tugged at her heartstrings. Those moments, her fingers itched to find something that could cover up her imperfections, and make her more feminine and appealing.

Those were weak moments. She knew that there must be no person like her who had _never_ wanted to be a little more feminine in appearance. Seeing nobles like Edelgard or Lysithea walk past, with eerily porcelain skin and perfect features, it just made her feel like that was what _she_ wanted, was all. And she knew it wasn’t wrong to feel that way, but in those moments, she grabbed onto Captain Jeralt’s necklace, and reminded herself of her roots. Where she came from, and who she was because of it- and she knew whenever she got her head in order that she would never be able to change. They were whims, and not ones that she was interested in pursuing. 

However, it got worse when she met Sylvain. 

The two of them were in different classes, so they had relatively little contact. That was, until Professor Byleth joined Garreg Mach to replace the missing professor, and took on the Golden Deer house. Leonie’s disapproval of her attire- because really, how could that be safe to battle in?- was only outbalanced by her admiration for the child of Captain Jeralt. Sylvain, however, was eyeing Byleth’s rack from the first day she showed up, and within a couple of months, Sylvain Jose Gautier was officially a Golden Deer. 

And Leonie _hated_ him. Always walking with that swagger in his step like he owned the place, winking at Leonie’s housemates and at every other passing girl, clasping their small hands in his own and inviting them out for tea with him in a velvety voice. Sylvain had flirted with almost _everyone_ at least once. Boys and girls alike, though the former generally more uncommon than the latter.

Almost everyone, and certainly every _girl_ , except for _her_. 

She would never admit it, but it bothered her quite a lot. Her worth wasn’t based on her appearance, for her strength and weapon prowess were all that truly mattered when you were fighting bandits, but appearances were a quality that _Sylvain_ deemed to be important.

The two of them made a good team, though. They both were proficient cavaliers, excellent with lances (and Leonie, with bows as well). Something in him brought out her strength, and she could tell that it worked the other way around, too. They could keep stride with each other on horseback, charging at their enemies and driving them back, claiming the victory for their own.

She wasn’t sure why she craved Sylvain’s approval so. Despite his good qualities, he was shallow and an awful philanderer, for which Leonie held no approval of her _own_ to speak of. However, he managed to draw her in anyway- perhaps it was _she_ that was the shallow one, wrapped up in his pretty words and perfectly-coiffed hair. She hated him, but she was inexplicably drawn to him. A moth to the flame. 

“Leonie?”

A voice broke her concentration, lilting with the question of her name. Her eyes widened with surprise, but the voice was soft and familiar- a voice incapable of scaring her. Five years had passed, and she’d thought that perhaps she would’ve forgotten the light tone, but it appeared that it was as present in her mind as ever.

“Hi, Sylvain,” she responded, pivoting on her heels to turn and greet him. He was stood a mere few feet away, his hands behind his back and an almost _nervous_ expression on his face. The soft evening light filtered through the intricate patterns of the greenhouse windows, basking both him and the plants around them in fractured warm colours, like broken stained glass. She was unable to stop a smile from spreading across her face as she stared straight into his eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s been a while, huh?” 

Sylvain nodded quietly- a tidge unlike him, she mused. He usually leapt at the opportunity to talk and flirt, but he was as silent as ever when it came to her. She felt a pang of disappointment at the thought. Of course, he hadn’t changed a bit.

Or maybe he _had_ , as he bit his lip and drew out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. After all, Sylvain was rarely the bashful type, but in this moment, with a blush fiery enough to match his hair staining his cheeks, holding a mix of delicate magnolia blooms out toward _her_ , he seemed anything but the suave and shallow man that she had always known.

Leonie was stunned. Silent. She dared not reach out for the flowers in front of her, scared that they would fade like a mirage. “For me?” she croaked out, slowly extending her hands, palms up, to receive the gift. 

Sylvain, in response, nodded. “For you,” he murmured, and placed the neatly-wrapped flowers in her hands. “I went and picked them myself. They reminded me of you- out in nature, free and wild, but beautiful all the same.” He seemed to be regaining his composure, his regular charm flooding back into his words, even accompanying them with a tender wink.

She scoffed, but as his blush faded, she felt one of her own colour her face pink. “Oh really? I thought you only offered flowers to pretty young maidens.” Tentatively, she pulled the flowers up to her face and inhaled, letting her eyes flutter shut as she breathed in the soft scent of magnolias. 

“And who’s to say you aren’t?” he responded, reaching his hands out and brushing his fingers against hers. She felt small shocks in her skin at the sensation. “You don’t need to look and act the same as everyone else in order to be a beautiful, young maiden. I find your boyish charm and genuinity quite appealing, in and of itself. You don’t make yourself out to be someone you’re not.”

His voice dripped with sincerity, pure and blossoming white. Leonie simply held the flowers closer- but carefully, so as not to crush them against her chest. Sylvain thought she was beautiful. Wild and free, natural and pure, lovely and _beautiful-_ a magnolia among roses, but no lesser for it. She rarely found herself rendered speechless, but in this moment, she could find nothing to say.

Sylvain leaned closer, into her personal space, his scent invading the subtle one of the magnolias- mixing with them, overpowering them, a pleasant scent filling her nostrils. “Well? What say you to some tea? I love to treat a beautiful young lady before I take her back to my room.” His voice dipped low, suggestively, but Leonie could only muster slight disdain in response.

“Fine. But I’m not going back to your room with you,” she replied, a little smirk quirking up one side of her lips. She found that smirk mirrored on Sylvain’s face, when she looked up and into his eyes, so damn _close_ to hers.

“Deal.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> alright, so now that you’ve read this fic (i hope you enjoyed it!) i wanted to share some of my thoughts on why i think this is really an adorable little ship, and why i’m so surprised nobody’s thought of it yet.
> 
> 1\. sylvain hates the idea of a woman marrying him for his crest. leonie, being from a (probably) poor village in alliance territory, not having a crest of her own (and in fact, resenting the nobility for their superiority and their fixation on crests), probably has little to no interest in crests or having children with crests. leonie is a genuine person who would love sylvain for him, rather than his crest.
> 
> 2\. leonie is one of the very few fe3h characters that is a tomboy. most of the women in fe3h are quite feminine, whether in appearance or in (somewhat stereotypically) personality, but she really isn’t, with her focus on strength and her dreams to do dirty mercenary work. sylvain, i’d imagine, typically tends to go for women who are more feminine, so the idea of him finding a more tomboyish girl attractive is one that really appeals to me.
> 
> 3\. i’ve always headcanoned that leonie is kind of insecure about herself. obviously everyone is a little bit, and leonie is on the lesser side of that spectrum (what with being quite prideful and strong), but everyone has their low moments, and i imagine that sometimes leonie would like to be a little bit more feminine- to have people pay attention to her appearance, even if that isn’t the quality she values most in herself. sylvain would be such a lovely boyfriend, who would make her feel like the prettiest girl in the world
> 
> 4\. their personal abilities are the inverse of each other! if sylvain is standing next to a female, (i.e. leonie), he gets a stat boost, and if leonie is standing next to a male, (i.e. sylvain), _she_ gets a stat boost. they’re also both characters who work well with horses and lances. in my mind, this means that the two of them work together very well, and are an invaluable asset on the battlefield! 
> 
> i’m sure there’s more, but these are just off of the top of my head! anyway, thank you for reading, and STAN SYLVONIE!!!


End file.
